“I drowned in you to forget that I am drowning every day.”

Inspiration And Sexual Satisfaction Hide From Me And Talk Shit Behind My Back

Everything I need to understand
Is lost in a pattern on this ceiling
Plaster stalactites are my constellations
Where I divine what lead me here

And you are lost in a pattern
Deep in the crook between my neck and shoulder
Maybe you’re searching for another girl’s face,
A way out of this bed, out of this life.

And both of us groan
Because we’ve found nothing.
Both of us groan
At this failed shot in the dark.

We sleep dreamlessly.
We wake up nowhere.
We part ways, alone.
We always were.


I’m sorry.
You looked like a warm body
In a place I don’t belong.
You looked like a warm body
But of course I could be wrong.

I suppose I could ignore you,
Like I should ignore the cold.
I just want to disappear.
I just want you to know.

I’m sorry.
You looked like a warm body
Like somewhere I belong.
You looked like a warm body.
You know I’m always wrong.


You surround me,
I evade you.
You neglect me,
I mourn you.
You’re numbing pain,
I am dead blood.

You’re lonely,
I am lonely, too.

You’re autumn’s sick,
I am summer’s burn.
You’re jagged canyons,
I’m death in Russian Red.
You’re my father’s old curses,
I am twenty years of tears.
You surround me.



My nose
My nose
Off the sad oval seal
I present to the world
Maybe it’s an exile
Fall for the greater good
From your perspective
My nose
From your perspective
My nose
A grand war memorial
Saluted by the world
Maybe it’s a hero
Valiant veteran of highest honors.

My nose is the loudest part of my face.
“Heroic” is nowhere in your silent slurs about my nose.


Turmoil Is Trendy

Rip my dress off.
Tell them you’re sad.
Spit in my face.
Tell me you bled.

Defined by insecurity
Appropriated accessory
Why better yourself
When turmoil is trendy?

Are you proud that you’re dying?
That your mourners will hate you?
Live fast, die young,
Get 50 reblogs or your death was a waste

Too busy screaming “THIS”
To ever scream “Help!”
Instagram my ashes.
Claim you’re the source.
Instagram my ashes.
Cry some more.


Half-Unconscious Is Still Conscious

And the sky will tear up
And the flowers of isolation
And fear will drum on my roof
And I will barricade myself with love

I’ll crawl into the crook of your words
And play your tapes until the VCR
Grows hot and exhausted
Just like my head

Maybe I’ll burn any of your vices
That grab my arm in the dark
Maybe I’ll change your voices
To pretend that I’ve loved again.

And now the sky cracks and shatters
And truth crashes like meteors through my shelter
And I declare I will never collapse
And you are not the end.


Coming Down (II)

As of today it’s 3 weeks
3 weeks and 3 days gone.
I bled you out in every way possible,
Except the way I promised you I wouldn’t.

We thought we had seen God’s face
And we tried to build our home there
But fell through cracking floorboards to Earth
We can’t build our homes in each other.

The lights are out. Everyone’s gone home.
Close the door but knock tomorrow.
I left my shredded thank you by your door,
Put it together and look for me.

Eventually I fell away from you
And when I woke, I discovered
The flowers you planted by my crater
Were all in bloom.

“Coming down from the mountain,
I have seen the high and mighty,
I will go again someday,
But for now, I’m coming down.

Coming down from the mountain,
I have seen the lofted glory,
I will go again someday,
But for now, I’m coming down.”

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